


Tales of Wonderland

by Elm



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Clan Lore, I'll add dragons/ships as they show up, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-15 05:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13024602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elm/pseuds/Elm
Summary: The stories of Wonderland and all of its residents.(Mle #303573's clan lore.)





	1. The Origin of Wonderland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featured dragons:  
> [Icarus,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=31467358) the Coatl  
> [Oblivion,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=31467357) the Fae

Nobody knows what happened to the Hewn City. If not for the seemingly eternal marble and limestone columns stretching towards the sun itself, most dragons would question if it was actually Light Flight territory. After all, everything else about it was remarkably different to the established Light Culture. Unlike the well-kept architecture of the Beacon and the bright forests surrounding the Mirrorlight Promenade, the city could only lay claim to weeds and vermin and pathetic broken buildings.

If the Hewn City had ever been prosperous, it was far beyond the living memory of any Light dragons. Only the Lightweaver herself could possibly remember the truth of her city - yet, it was a question if she ever did. She never blessed the shattered structures with her light, she never responded to the many prayers for information and research and _help._

For that very reason, it was perfect for the Wonderland Clan. If anything could be said for them, it was that they all knew helplessness well. They all hailed from different backgrounds, from the harsh wastelands of the Plaguebringer's lands to the barren deserts of the Stormcatcher's, but it was this that brought them here. To the Hewn City, where they had everything they needed.

True, it was a gloomy place. Cloaked in the shadows of rotting trees and demolition debris, it was a lonely lonely place. No dragon would ever aimlessly wander into the city, much less the dim suburb of overgrown ivy where Icarus' clan had dawned upon the world. She was safe here, away from those that she betrayed (those that betrayed her), with only those that would never leave her side. In this heartfelt haunted place, she could shine as brightly as she wanted.

The Hewn City had always longed for its own sun, but even the sun herself needed her moon. He shined upon the Hewn City while she slept; his illuminated ruins were both alluring and alarming against the pitch black night. Only during these moments would Oblivion truly awaken. Under the cover of night, he wandered - a ghost within a ghost town. Yet, while he would hide away for days upon end, the co-leader would take watch of his clan under the starlight.

There was many a thing to watch out for. The darkness told the most interesting tales of gods, of monsters, of ghosts and skeletons and zombies. Will you dare to listen?

And more importantly, will you find out how deep the rabbithole goes?


	2. The Origin of Eilen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featured dragons:  
> [Eilen,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=12195088) the Skydancer

From the furthest stretches of the Southern Icefield to the deepest trenches of the Sea of a Thousand Currents, Sornieth was undeniably a dragon-eat-dragon world. The terrain itself was tough enough, boasting of anything from molten lava to the chaotic whims of magic itself. But that was to say nothing of the dragons residing there.

And even then, it was the gods that were the cruelest. Maybe if they actually cared, they would have blessed her with a better life, spared her from despair and grief. Her pale talons scratched the insides of a decaying eggshell, blissfully unaware of the plaguelands outside. If she knew of what fate had in store for her, would she have stayed inside her egg? Or would she face it head-on?

Perhaps it was a good thing that she didn't. She greeted the world with stretched pink wings, an eager smile and wide eyes as red as the rot of the Wyrmwound itself. But even the Wyrmwound itself couldn't compare in its shade to the fury of every dragon standing before her.

She didn't know who started it. All she knew was that, as soon as one of the adults starting before her lifted his head in a roar, the rest of them joined in. She didn't know who they were cursing out, she hoped it wasn't her, but she wouldn't know until she grew much older.

As it turned out, it wasn't her fault. The elders of the clan explained much later that they blamed the Plaguebringer, the land itself, and any scapegoat they could find at all. She wanted to ask them why, and the question burned within her like a contagion of the heart, and yet they still refused.

All they offered her was one thing, and one thing only: a bed of bones and dead leaves. She tried to find comfort within this, and yet it only gave her a sense of loneliness. The leaves crackled beneath her claws, and she wished that she could have cracked the bones as well, if she was strong enough.

She picked up one of the smallest bones - likely a leg bone from some poor freshkill rat - and examined it. Decay was already setting in, and what would have once been pure and clean was now a rotten blotchy sickly yellow. It was the same colour as her fur, and she wondered if one day she would meet the same fate.


	3. The Origins of Arietta & Carina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featured dragons:  
> [Arietta,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=37968189) the Coatl _(currently a Mirror)_  
> [Pomegranate,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=35851088) the Coatl  
> [Carina,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=37486351) the Skydancer _(currently a Bogsneak)_
> 
> I love writing lore for dragons who I haven't even gened up yet. //cries

Arietta cared little for mythology and magic. Not out of ignorance, by any means - she had heard the tales of the Gladekeeper nurturing the seeds of dragonkind all across the land, she had seen the many artistic interpretations of flowerbuds blooming into her long-long-long lost ancestors. She knew how a Coatl hatchling was intended to grow, since the day it sprouted from its egg in time with the beckoning of spring.

As they would grow, the land would seem to grow with them. Honeybees and hummingbirds would follow their trails of magic, spreading pollen and seeds and molting feathers. Their tails would grow longer than the ivy vines themselves, their childhood down would shed away to reveal wonderful feathers brighter than the Gladekeeper's own gardens and the warning signs of her most dangerous subjects.

By summer, they would no longer be awkward tenderfooted fledglings, but rather confident adult dragons. They wouldn't have dull wings the shade of autumn undergrowth and winter branches. If they would grow shining scales, they would dazzle with the brightness of chemiluminescence and the burning sun itself, rather than faint calming moonlight. 

And most importantly, they would be able to channel the magic of the land with ease. 

When she was younger, she thought that maybe she was just a late bloomer. She had lived her life believing that one day she would inherit the wild extents of magic and take her place in the circle of life. Roses would bloom with the swish of her tail; old gnarled trees would return to their full potential under her powerful gaze. She would take from the land what she needed to live, and she would give back in greater proportion.

When she was older, she was painfully aware that this wasn't the case. She would never feel that very magic within her veins, within her clawtips. She could cough up smoke and seeds, she could tend to mushrooms and weeds, but she would only be marginally better than any other non-Nature Flight dragon. She would never have anyone or anything but herself.

When she actually found her place in the world, she would realize that she would never need anything else in the first place. By this time, she had given up on the ideal of magic. It was, to her, as bitter as wormwood leaves and as overpowering as the soil on which it grew.

The one thing she hadn't given up on was Nature itself. Far away from the wilderness in which she was born, she made a life for herself and others.

In the metaphorical sense, she found a home within Wonderland. With her knowledge of plant care, she quickly found a purpose within the clan as well. Under her care, the rosebuds grown by Cari and Artemis amidst cracks in the stone would bloom more beauteous than ever; the stems were trimmed and the flowers were turned into alluring apparel for Icarus and Eilen; the thorns were scattered into brews and potions by Pomegranate.

They often talked around the cauldron. It was a fleeting thing at first, and it dissolved as quickly as the pink carnations in the burning chemicals. Hidden behind reddened goggles, the other Coatl focused on his brew first and his companion second. He murmured quietly to himself: about his intentions for this potion, said to help a young dragon mature quickly and happily, not so much about his own life. She still listened intently.

Thankfully, everything was going as intended. Under their careful watch, the once-kaleidoscopic liquid had faded into a lovely shade of pink. She wondered if Pomegranate's potion would actually work. She wondered what else he could make.

One afternoon, she suggested an idea to him. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. Pomegranate began to talk at length about his own research and interest in the subject, ever so gleeful to find someone with the same ideal.

Yet, it wasn't just their dream that drew them together. They learned that they were more alike than they realized. Neither of them had been born with the ancient magic of their birthlands, but it had never stopped them. Pomegranate had taken up the art of alchemy, challenging the boundaries of life itself as he quested for immortality. Arietta, working alongside him, would not rest until she had created an artificial life.

 

"Click." The sound of a switch.

"Blink." The action of quickly opening one's eyes.

He did not know why he knew these words in Common Draconian, or why he even knew the language at all. He was glad he did.

"Light" was his third word. He narrowed his eyes against the brightness of it. It was such a sheer contrast to the world of darkness he previously knew. Bright glowing slime was stacked in jars. Bright light shone around the room from the countless candles lit all around. All of it shimmered against his creator's shining scales and wings.

He had wings too. Unlike his creator's, his were made of fiberglass and artificial feathers flights of fantasy that had become real. His wings were so, so, so much smaller.

Yet, he wasn't a hatchling. He had entered the world fully grown. His knowledge supplied him with the reason why their wings were so mismatched. His creator was a Coatl. He wasn't.

She whispered to him, wondering if her breed's natural tongue would work on him. It didn't. So she started again, lisping in Common Draconian.

"Hello, Carina. I am Arietta."

He was Carina. His name had several meanings. Cartilage, bone, dear and beloved, a star in the southern sky. Maybe his name had a deeper meaning. Just as his star was shining brightly, far far away, maybe Carina had once known it personally.

He thought back to his creator's species - the Coatl dragon, the species of dragon which he very definitely wasn't. However, he knew what he very definitely was. A non-Coatl being with non-Coatl origins and a namesake that reflected it almost perfectly. 

"Hello, Arietta! I am an alien!"


	4. The story of Pomegranate and the Nocturnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featured dragons:  
> [Pomegranate,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=35851088) the Coatl  
> [Artemis,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=6830293) the Coatl  
> [Oblivion,](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=303573&tab=dragon&did=31467357) the Fae
> 
> This was written for the [Trickster Dragon Share prompt](http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/2339757), and as such, it features dragons/lore mentioned within the prompt. Checking out the original thread will likely help you understand this chapter.

A perceptive dragon might notice the odour of half-completed brews and burnt slimes in the hallways of the Observatory, and follow the scent to find the one responsible. A slightly less perceptive dragon might just follow the trail of rusty red feathers. Pomegranate often made appointments at the Observatory, as part of his quest for immortality, but he was very rarely patient. And if you followed his trail of feathers, plucked from head-on collisions with unassuming objects in his way, you would learn just how impatient he was.

For he had travelled all the way to the Tangled Woods. Beneath his striped claws, broken brambles and branches marked his brisk step, desperately trying to stick to a self-assigned pace. It had been hours since he had eaten, and he was feeling the consequences - but lo, in front of him!

A glowing flower, sparkling in the moonlight like it was one of the stars itself. Artemis might have taken inspiration from the bizarre bloom, and Cari might have been able to identify the best way to grow it... But as long as Pomegranate was alone, he only saw one use for it. He would study the mysterious magic, denounce it to the world, and perhaps even get extra credit.

Unfortunately, life had other plans for him.

 

Elsewhere, a similar patch of flowers shimmered softly in the murk of the woods. But these weren't quite the same. Whereas the flower that had mystified Pomegranate surged strongly with Shadow sorcery, this flowerbed was enchanted by Lightning magic. Artemis had predicted that these flowers would never dim, relying on solar energy conversion and other such things, but she never predicted she would leave Wonderland for long enough to leave her magic without maintenance.

Yet, all good mages and scientists knew that there was always a first time for everything. It was Pomegranate, a fellow Coatl, who had inspired her to leave Wonderland to help him with something, in his words, "that could mean the end of the world as we know it." Dramatic, yes, but she had come to expect that from him.

In retrospect, he was right to be dramatic. As one of the eldest members of Wonderland, she held a faint memory of last year's Night of the Nocturne, but whether by magic or just the simple passage of time, she had forgotten the exact details.

It was only upon seeing Shadowsong that everything came rushing back to her. Hearing the Nocturne's tales of her lost hatchlings, her traitorous sister and the threat to dragonkind drew shining tears from her crystal blue eyes. While at first she wept for the poor Voidsong and Nightsong, she soon lifted her head, ready to try and make a difference.

 

Deep within a dim and dusty lair, a dragon slept among piles of books. A miniscule beam of sunlight crept in from a crack in the roof, only just large enough for the Fae himself to fly through, and if not for the way the light reflected off of his wings, the room would be cloaked in darkness. Oblivion far preferred the safety of his own den, despite his mate's suggestions to "get out more".

After all, bats and books would never judge him, and others had plenty to judge him for. Illogical necromancy, refusal to talk to anyone, abandoning his first and only egg... he could go on. And although he could explain everything, his words would never be loud enough for those who chose not to listen.

Maybe, then, actions would speak louder than words. He couldn't save his own hatchling, but maybe he could save Voidsong and Nightsong... Maybe, for once in his life, he could use his "curse" for good.

And even though his actions would never go down in history, thanks to the Singers' natural seclusion and solitude, at least he could prove to Pomegranate and Artemis that he was so much more than the rumours. And after everything that happened, maybe they would believe him.


End file.
